


An Appointment in Samarra

by gleefulmusings



Series: Crossing Boundaries [5]
Category: Glee, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/gleefulmusings
Summary: Clint lost his family with a snap of fingers, and Natasha lost something she never knew she had. The Avengers have a new and very personal reason to exact revenge on Thanos.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Kurt Hummel
Series: Crossing Boundaries [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396777
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	1. Sign of the Times

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my Clint/Kurt one-shot, _Domesticity_.

Natasha crested the hill and was halted by the unnatural silence.

It was eerie. The only sound was the trees whispering their secrets to those who could hear them. There were no buzzing insects, no clanking machinery, not even an errant bleat from the few animals the farm maintained. There was nothing.

There was just … nothing.

She picked up her pace, perceiving but not wanting to believe what she knew to be true. She couldn’t posit it, didn’t want to think about it. How was she going to help her partner when her own heart was breaking?

She saw him sitting in one of the old rockers on the front porch, staring sightlessly before him. He didn’t move, barely even breathed. Blinking appeared too much of an effort.

A sob bubbled up in her throat and she forcefully cleared it away, the taste of bile stinging the back of her throat. She had known, she realized. He always answered her calls, even when it was inconvenient. When she couldn’t get through, she had suspected, yet hoped …

Hope had never given her anything. The one and only time it had, it had given her everything, given her a family, and now it was gone. Her tears were already falling before she got the to the house and, for once, she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed of them.

“They’re gone, Natty,” he said with utter desolation, his voice dry and cracking. He probably hadn’t spoken for days once he stopped screaming. “All gone.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm her racing heart. Coop; Lila; little Nathaniel. The only children she’d ever met whom she actually liked. Whom she loved. Had loved. Fuck tenses.

And Kurt. Her best friend, after Clint. The only true friend she’d ever made on her own. The man who had invited her into his home, into his life and the lives of his children, who had named his youngest after her, had been blinked out of existence like he had never been.

She collapsed on the stoop; her shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t need words; certainly not from her. She wouldn’t know where to find them anyway. So she joined him in staring at the meadow; empty now, like their lives.

She knew this was it. Clint would disappear, probably for years. She’d do her best to keep tabs on him, help him when he needed – though he would never accept it – and hope one day he would pick up the phone.

“He left you a letter.”

She looked up at him and blinked in confusion.

He nodded toward the table beside him as he took another swig of his beer.

“Why?” she wondered.

He shrugged. “Don’t know. You know who Kurt was, what he could do. I don’t know if he saw this coming, but I doubt it. He would have done everything to save the kids, even if it meant sacrificing himself.”

She nodded, knowing it was true. “What does it say?”

“Hell if I know. Found it in his desk. Looks like it was written recently. I know he was working on something, but he wouldn’t tell me what, not until he was sure. No idea.”

She reached out, fingers trembling as if with palsy, and snatched it from the table. She looked at it for a long moment, considering what it could be, what it would say, before slicing open the envelope with a fingernail. She peered inside, wondering why it was so thick.

She pulled out a sheaf of papers, the top sheet handwritten on familiar stationery. She raced through, not really paying attention, only focusing on the occasional word. Her eyes widened comically as it began sinking in, and she started from the beginning, her hands shaking.

She swallowed heavily and turned the page, eyes poring over the reports.

Clint watched her from the corner of his eye, desperately curious as to its contents, but respectful enough of Kurt and Nat’s friendship not to pry. He could smell her distress, almost taste it on the soft breeze.

She stood abruptly, threw the papers to the ground, and took off running. He had never seen her move so fast. He absently wondered if she would stop. He already missed her presence, but was thankful for her departure.

He waited until he heard her bike start, until the cloud from all the gravel she kicked up had settled, before reaching down and gathering the papers. He drew them toward him, eyes pricking at his husband’s familiar scrawl, his very scent emanating from the pulp, and starting reading.

He sobbed.

* * *

Tony Stark sat in his wheelchair before the wall of glass that made up the east side of his apartment. He looked out over the city, dimly noticing the changes, but not truly registering them. The IV dripped steadily into the needle in his hand.

For the first time, he felt his age. He felt older than he was. He had seen too much, done too much, and wondered how his father had managed to live for as long as he had. Throwing in the towel seemed like the best option, but he was too narcissistic to take the easy out. Besides, he still had Pepper, and that was everything. She was everything.

Yet the pain was overwhelming. He couldn’t have stood if he’d tried, but the pain went far deeper than the physical. He could still hear the kid’s voice in his ear, begging not to go. Tony would have gladly died for the kid. He didn’t know why he hadn’t. Why he had been part of the chosen half to go on when so much had been lost.

He could feel Steve’s eyes on him and appreciated the respect the man was paying him, knowing he hadn’t earned it. All of that machismo and posturing, and for what? It didn’t matter now. So much of what he had once believed so important no longer mattered.

Thor was either in the cone of silence or in a coma, over in the corner. He looked like softened butter. Tony didn’t know what to say, how to help him. That was more Steve’s bailiwick, anyway. Captain America to the rescue. Steve always tried so hard. Even now. It must have been exhausting.

The big bunch of spinach named Bruce flitted about the room, trying to comfort people and knowing it was a lost cause. Pepper was in the bedroom, having lapsed into unconsciousness after her candlelight vigil. Tony knew he didn’t deserve her, but then no one did, so why not him? Red was trying to track down Birdbuns, and Tony really didn’t want to think about why Clint was missing in action.

There was a fucking Garanimal currently raiding his fridge, and Tony expected they would all need rabies shots in the immediate future. Nebula was silent, as she usually was. He was surprised how much he liked her. Captain Universe, or whatever the hell the insanely powerful badass who had brought his ship back was called, was also staring out the window. Tony actually did wonder what she was thinking. Probably mourning Fury. It surprised him how much he missed that irascible asshole.

So much had surprised him lately, including the brunette who had leapt over the balcony wall and was now staring at him through the glass.

He knew who she was. The scarf and leather jacket were hallmarks. He had been quietly keeping tabs on her for a while. He was more impressed with her than he was with most of the Avengers. The woman had had a wall of shit fall on her, but she had picked herself up, dusted herself off, and continued to help people, even though she needed more help than anyone. He respected that.

Her dark eyes glittered with malevolence, black hair whipping about her head. Her full lips were pressed into a grimace that promised pain. She was beautiful because she was so unique. Her features shouldn’t have gone together, and she would never be considered conventionally attractive, but she was absolutely stunning. Just like her cousin.

He sighed. Damn.

“Who is that?” Carol murmured.

He felt the others turn toward the window in confusion, looking at the woman who was regarding Tony as though he was to blame for everything since the fall of Rome. Hell, he probably was. He was certainly blaming himself.

“Jessica Jones,” he said dully. “Like us, but keeps to herself. Wants nothing to do with us, really. Runs Alias Investigations. Superhuman strength; limited flight. Major issues.” He paused. “Kurt’s gone.”

Steve gasped. Bruce hung his head. Thor stood, ripped the sunglasses from his face, closed his eyes and centered himself. Whatever answer he sought, he must have received, for he muttered an expletive and stormed off, only to return a moment later and begin pacing.

“Hawkeye’s husband,” Tony elaborated for Carol, who was too respectful to pry. “The kids must be gone, too.”

Jessica, as though she could hear him, and she probably could, offered a silent nod in reply.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered.

Tony couldn’t believe how startled he was that Captain America had said a bad word.

Jessica threw them one last baleful look and catapulted herself back over the balcony.

“Poor Clint,” Bruce whispered. “I can’t even imagine.”

“That kid was something,” Steve said fondly. “I still remember his first appearance here. I thought all of us were going to mess our pants.”

“I could feel him as soon as he entered the building,” Bruce confessed. “I haven’t felt that except with …”

“Me,” Thor finished.

Bruce nodded.

Steve raised a brow. “You never did tell us how you knew him.”

Tony slowly turned his chair around and also arched a brow.

“I didn’t know him,” Thor said lowly, “but I recognized what he was.”

“And what was that?” Carol asked with feigned patience.

“A god,” Thor replied.

“And my brother,” said Natasha, who appeared from behind him.


	2. In the Time of Myths and Legends

Natasha ignored the rising din of cacophonous voices; it sounded like distant quacking to her. She felt as though she were underwater; she could hear sound, see light and color, but everything was muted and removed from her experience. She was floating somewhere between life and death, where time meant nothing and everything all at once.

She studied the empty balcony, having just arrived to see Jessica leap from it. She knew if she glanced in a mirror, she would see looking back at her the utter desolation she had just seen in eyes of the other woman. They were friends of a sort; not particularly close, but more so than they allowed others into their lives. She knew Jess loved Kurt beyond measure, but had kept even him at a distance. No one would ever mean to her what Trish did.

Kurt had understood and respected that. No one was more grateful to Trish than he for being the family Jess had needed after the deaths of her parents and brother. He had never pushed Jessica; always happy to include her and taking no offense when she refused. He had accepted her idiosyncrasies, both charming and destructive, without comment.

He had done the same with Natasha. Kurt had been the most accepting person she had ever known, able to look past artifice and the walls one built around themselves to the person hiding behind them. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t been hard and aloof, for he had been, but when he loved, he did so without regret and without restraint.

The world was colder now, and darker, and that pervasive sense of loneliness that had accompanied her since childhood now became cavernous.

Memories pricked at her consciousness: their first meeting, in which she had initially believed him unworthy of Clint, only to decide less than an hour later the opposite was true; of Kurt putting Cooper in her hands, the first to hold him after his fathers; of him telling her he could only dream Lila would become half the woman she was – not Black Widow, but Natasha; of naming his youngest after her – his idea, not Clint’s – and demanding a vow from her that she would look after his children if there ever came a time when he could not.

Now he was gone. The children were gone. Clint was soon to be lost, probably forever, and she was alone. Again. Even here, amongst her friends, her _family_ , she was alone.

“What do you mean Kurt was a god?” a floored Bruce demanded.

“What?” Pepper yelped, stumbling into the living room fresh from her nap and already looking ready to pass out again. Her eyes widened in horror upon registering his use of the past tense.

“Hold up!” Tony shouted, thrusting his arm in the air and staring at Natasha. “I hacked S.H.I.E.L.D. I read your file in all of its disturbing and wonderful glory. Your father was Ivan Romanoff! What the hell do you mean Kurt was your brother?!”

“What!” Pepper shrieked.

Steve ignored them both and studied the woman who was probably his best friend. He knew he wasn’t that for her, that Clint would always hold that title, but they were nevertheless close, sharing thoughts and feelings they wouldn’t have felt comfortable sharing with anyone else.

“You told me during your hiatus, you went back to Russia to find your parents, but only found their graves.” He closed his eyes. “ _Two little gravestones by a chain link fence. I pulled some weed and left some flowers. We have what we have when we have it._ ”

Tony blinked and turned toward him. “Did you just quote her verbatim? From years ago? You’re old enough for Alzheimer’s, but instead you’re Rain Man?”

“Who?” asked a confused Steve.

A bemused Carol watched the byplay and could only imagine how Fury must have reacted to this unusual group. She was betting they had driven him spare, but he had probably loved it. Her mourning for him increased acutely.

“That’s what I believed,” said a helpless Natasha, trying to keep the bitterness and exasperation from her voice, though it was a struggle. “I never knew differently. I knew so little about my past, about my parents and family, why would I have questioned it? I felt lucky to find what I did. It wasn’t much, but after a lifetime of wondering and searching, at least it was something.”

He offered a rueful nod in reply. He knew what it was to be desperate, to have anything in your possession to tether you to reality, because there was no one left alive to whom you could put questions.

“How did you find out?” asked a gentle Bruce, wanting to pull her to him but knowing she would reject the gesture, if not him. “If you want to tell us, that is.”

Her eyes turned hazy. “I went to the farm. I knew when Clint didn’t answer my calls … well, I just knew.”

“Oh, god,” Tony whispered.

“He was sitting on the porch. It looked like he was waiting for someone, and he was, but I never expected it was me. I don’t know what I expected, or even if I had conscious thoughts when I arrived. It was so quiet. Unnatural. The birds are gone.“What?” Carol asked.

“There are no birds. It was so … surreal … to be on a farm with every kind of tree you can imagine, and not hear a single bird. I went up to him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge me at first, because what was left to say? We sat in silence for a bit, and then he told me Kurt had left me a letter.”

“A letter?” Tony barked. “You’re telling us Hot Stuff left life-altering information in a letter?”

Pepper gave him a quelling glare. “Did Kurt know what was going to happen?”

Natasha shook her head. “Clint said, and I agree, that if Kurt had known, he would’ve moved heaven and earth to protect the children, sacrificing himself if necessary.”

“Maybe he did,” said a desperate Pepper. “Maybe he …”

“Clint saw the dust.”

Pepper bit her lips and swallowed heavily, turning away. “Natasha,” she asked after clearing her throat, “where is Clint?”

Natasha swallowed heavily and looked down at the floor.

Pepper began shaking her head, raising a trembling hand to her mouth. “No,” she whispered through her fingers. “Oh, god, no!”

“Clint made it,” Tony said quietly.

Pepper was more concerned Clint had done something stupid in his grief, but Tony's words were more than welcome.

“But Kurt didn’t, right?” she asked, tears slipping from her eyes. “The kids?”

Natasha turned away.

Pepper began sobbing, clutching her stomach.

“Oh, Jesus,” Bruce warbled, fisting his hair. “Oh, my god.”

“This is true evil,” Thor murmured. “This … this is _monstrous._ ”

“And sometimes monsters win,” Carol whispered, knowing he could hear her.

He offered a slow, careful nod in reply. He liked this woman.

“Damn it!” Steve screamed, restless hands fidgeting at his sides. He needed to fight. He _wanted_ to fight. That’s what he had been created to do, but how was he supposed to fight this? “We gave everything, only to lose so much in return: Bucky; Sam; Vision; T’Challa; Peter; Doctor Strange; Wanda. That’s only the beginning; we don’t even know the final numbers. We manage to bring at least _some_ of our family back home, only to find out we lost even _more_? When does it end?”

“It doesn’t,” Carol said. “It never ends, Steve. No one truly dies; they live on in all of us whose lives they touched. That’s what grief is. That’s why those left behind hurt so much.”

The simplicity and eloquence of her words touched him in a way little else had. Their experiences weren’t similar – she had more in common with Natasha on that score – but each understood the sense of displacement, of time carrying on without them, only to be reintroduced to a world which had become foreign.

“Do you really believe that?” Rocket asked quietly, emerging from the kitchen. He had lost his whole crew, his entire family. The pain was incalculable.

“I really do,” she said softly, “because anything else is just too sad. We’ve all fought wars; we’ve all lost people. We know this horrific pain, and we know the work we have to do to survive it. The people we’ve loved and lost aren’t lost to us forever because they changed us, and, through those changes, they still live. We’re their legacy, and it’s our duty to honor them.”

A pregnant silence fell over the room.

“Well, thanks for the Hallmark Hall of Fame moment, Captain,” Tony finally said. It wasn’t the first time he had said those words, but it was the first time they weren’t directed at Steve.

“Not now, Tony,” Pepper said, wiping her face. “Just … not now, please. Where is Clint, Natasha?”

“I left him at the farm,” the woman replied. “I doubt he’ll stay there long. I wouldn’t bother waiting for an official resignation. Clint’s entire world disappeared with the snap of an asshole’s fingers. He’s not coming back from this. Not anytime soon, if ever.”

“What were their names?” Carol asked. “The children. What were their names?”

“Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel. Why?”

She closed her eyes and softly repeated the names, nodding when she had committed them to memory. “Because it’s important. Especially so for you, of course, but for all of us. This is _why_ we fight, and we must always remember that. It’s not about the triumphs, but the losses. You fought as hard as you could, you gave everything you had, but you still lost and that wasn’t your fault.

“You carry the weight of this world on your shoulders, but you also carry its baggage. Sometimes the greatest gift, and the greatest curse, is surviving. Sometimes we survive only to remember those that didn’t, and then we try again. We try harder. Feel the rage, feel the pain and the loss, and let them fuel you, but don’t let them consume you, or you hand Thanos another victory.”

“You’ve been through this before,” Steve observed.

“Many times,” she said quietly, “and, no, it never gets easier. It never should. The moment you become inured to the pain and suffering is the moment you become useless. I refuse to be useless.”

Tony turned his head. He felt pretty damn useless right now, and imagined that wouldn’t be changing any time soon. He understood her words and even appreciated them, but it would be a long while before they settled beneath his skin. Looking errantly around the room, he knew the others felt the same. It was still too new, too raw, for any wisdom, no matter how well intentioned, to affect them.

Natasha ran her hand through her hair. “Clint knew Kurt had been working on something, but not what. Kurt refused to say until he had verifiable information.”

Tony nodded. “Smart. So what was it?”

“A DNA test. Irrefutable proof Kurt and I share fifty percent genetic material. We’re … he was my full sibling. How he got a sample is beyond me, but I certainly wasn’t be careful around the farm.”

“And your parents?” Bruce asked, glancing at Thor, whose silence was deafening.

“Dead,” was her dispassionate answer. “His mother … _our_ mother … died when Kurt was just a child; our father when Kurt was in high school.”

Steve winced. “He was left orphaned?”

She sucked her teeth and nodded. That was a statement she wasn’t yet unready to unpack, but the guilt was already settling in her gut. Their parents had died, and Kurt had been left alone while still a child.

“Kurt had been going through old family records, looking for photographs of our parents. The kids were curious and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it until recently.” She cleared her throat. “He found a birth announcement for a sister he never knew he had. I don’t know when this was, or why he considered I might be that sister.”

“It must have been gut-wrenching,” Pepper whispered. “To have lost his parents and years later discover an unknown sister? No wonder he didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t dare hope.”

Natasha’s eyes were glassy. “I was kidnapped from the hospital the day after I was born. There was a statewide manhunt. The woman accused of taking me was found dead a week later; her car had run off the road and into a ravine. The empty car seat was found several yards from the crash. It was assumed I had been thrown from the car and into the river. I was presumed dead.”

“That’s horrible,” Steve croaked. “I can’t imagine your child being stolen from you and then …” He lowered his head. “It’s just awful.”

“Why do you think he left the letter?” asked a curious Tony. “Why not just tell you?”

Steve looked at him. “What would you do if you found out you had a sibling you never knew, only then to discover it was me or Bruce? Would you tell us immediately?”

“No,” Tony said instantly. “I would be too angry.”

“Angry?” Bruce repeated.

“At the lost time. At the time I did have with you, not knowing who you were to me. I didn’t know Kurt well, but it was apparent he adored Nat.” He looked at her. “He and Clint made you guardian of their children, didn’t they?”

She pursed her lips and nodded.

He nodded in kind. “Knowing the woman I trusted more than any other, to whom I entrusted my children, was actually my sister would have been devastating. He was probably angry he couldn’t tell just by looking at you, especially because he already considered you a sister in everything but name. As well as he knew you, I bet he felt he should have known who you truly were to him. If you’ve shared any of your history with him, and I’m guessing you did, he probably blamed himself that he couldn’t save you from the Red Room.”

“That wasn’t his fault!” Steve insisted. “He was younger than her!”

“Guilt doesn’t recognize age, Captain,” Carol said. “I’m sure Natasha wishes she had been there for Kurt after he lost their parents.”

Natasha gave an owlish blink, but said nothing.

“I can understand why Kurt wanted empirical evidence,” Tony said. “He probably had no idea what to say to you, Nat. I mean, would any of us?”

Bruce slowly shook his head. “If Kurt was your brother,” he said slowly to Natasha, “how was he a god and you’re not?” His blink was harsh. “Wait, are you?”

“No,” Thor interrupted, “and the bonded of the Archer was not a god by birth. The differences are slight, but noticeable, especially to another god. Kurt Hummel was an apotheosized mortal.”

Tony stared. “Kurt died and became a god?” he asked with utter incredulity. “That’s a thing?”

“Indeed, Friend Tony, though it is unique to Midgard and so rare as to be thought impossible. On Asgard, to be a god, one must be born a god.” He turned a sly gaze on Steve, which went unnoticed by all but Carol and Pepper. “It is possible for a mortal to wield the power of a god, but they would not be considered a god. Usually such a person is a magician; a witch.”

“Witches are real now?” murmured a helpless Steve.

“So,” Natasha said darkly, “you’re telling me that before I met Kurt, before he married Clint and they had their children, my brother died?”

Thor’s eyes widened and he rued his thoughtless words. “Yes.”

She nodded and walked over to the wall of glass, staring sightlessly at the devastated city before her.

“How could a person, a human, become a god after they died?” Bruce asked.

Thor furrowed his brow. “I can think of only two explanations. Most likely, young Kurt had earned the favor of a god. This occurs when a mortal who is superlative garners the attention of an immortal. When Kurt died, this immortal either gave Kurt ambrosia, or surrendered their immortality to him.

“Actually,” he said after a beat, “the second explanation most likely did not occur, for surrendering immortality would render the god mortal and not grant Kurt any powers. I believe Kurt died and was then given ambrosia.”

“Ambrosia is real?” Steve asked.

“ _Gods_ are real?” Tony demanded. “I mean, gods of this world? They're still around?"

Thor nodded. “Oh, yes! I have not encountered one during my sojourns to Midgard, but I have sensed their presence. They have dwindled in number since the dawn of what you call the Common Era, the time after Christ walked the earth.”

Tony’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to ask for clarification.

“So you knew what Kurt was when you met him?” Pepper asked.

“Only in the vaguest terms,” Thor answered. “At first, I believed I was mistaken. I haven’t come across a Midgard god for millennia. I knew they continued in some form, but had never met one of this time incarnate. I realized, however, what he was once he left. His manner of teleportation is indicative of godliness. I had just thought he was an above-average witch, which he most likely was. If those magical abilities were rekindled after his godhood was bestowed, his power was beyond anything I could conceive.”

“Witch?” Tony faintly repeated, very certain Thor meant _actual_ witches, not those like Wanda who had been labeled such.

Thor nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

“But what was he god of?” Steve asked. “You’re the god of thunder. Loki was the god of mischief and mayhem. What about Kurt? Do earth gods also have … specialties?”

Thor nodded again. “Yes. Athena was the goddess of wisdom in warfare; Aphrodite is the goddess of love; Zeus would have been analogous to the All Father. I couldn't possibly speculate as to Kurt's sphere of influence. Almost anything is possible.”

Pepper cocked her head. “You named only Greek gods,” she noted, “and there was a concerning muddling of tenses.”

“Kurt emanated an Olympian sheen. I didn’t place it at first. The last time I encountered an Olympian was almost three thousand years ago, but they all had a similar … signature, I suppose you might say. Most of them are gone, though a few still linger and are not what they once were.”

“So Greek gods are real?” asked an awed Steve.

“Some are; others are long dead.”

“Which ones have you met?” Tony asked.

“I was acquainted with the entire Pantheon,” Thor said slowly, “though to varying degree.”

“How do you kill a god?” Bruce asked, before remembering Thanos had killed Loki. He paled. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It is a reasonable question,” Thor said evenly. “I take no offense. The gods of Asgard are powerful, yes, and have extremely long lifespans, but we are not immortal. It was believed the Olympians were, until many of them were slain; some were able to reconstitute themselves in Rome, and others surrendered their immortality to live among mortals. Some left this realm altogether.

“Killing a god is not an easy task. Thanos is physically superior to most, and was thus able to murder my brother, despite Loki being a god. Other gods have perished because they antagonized and underestimated the power of a witch; magic is a fickle and poorly misunderstood force that should never be discounted. There are also objects imbued with power similar to the stones, such that they could easily cut down a god.

“And then there are people who, for whatever reason, are either born or chosen to wield the power to dispose of gods. Most gods were usually plotting against one another. The most recent god-slayer I can recall was a woman who died during the reign of Tiberius. She was, like Kurt, a superlative mortal, though not a witch. She was an incredible warrior, fairly unparalleled, save her companion, but also a healer.

“She was given the power to slay gods by one which was, at the time, competing against the Olympians for favor. This was the god of Eli, a prophet and healer who had experienced a religious conversion and followed the path of love.”

“Path of love?” Tony drawled.

“That philosophy is not mine,” Thor said curtly, “but I respect those who able to walk it and do so with conviction. I have neither the patience nor inclination. It asks that one be totally passive and accepting of people and events, doing nothing to alter the course of fate.”

“Sounds like cowardice,” Tony muttered.

“It is anything but,” Thor barked. “As I said, it is not my philosophy, nor have I had any desire to follow it, but those who do and do it well become attuned with the universe, traversing levels of reality denied to most creatures.

“I’ve never heard of this Eli,” Carol said, “or his god.”

“Eli was a man, a prophet, as I said. His god is the god of the Israelites.”

She stared at him for what felt like minutes, though only seconds passed. This casual utterance caused her world to shift fundamentally on its axis, answering questions she had long resigned herself to never knowing or even contemplating. Also curious was Thor’s nonchalance, as though what he had just confirmed was nothing interesting, merely the existence of some contemporary.

Steve and Bruce were similarly overwhelmed. Rocket, who was not of this world, was uninterested. Tony didn’t wish to posit what was just said, and Pepper was still consumed with the loss of Kurt and the children.

“And the woman you spoke of? This god-slayer?” Steve asked.

“There was a prophecy this woman’s child would bring about the Twilight, the fall of the Olympian gods and their brethren. The Pantheon misinterpreted this prophecy and believed the child would grow up to kill them, when instead all that was to happen was that the child would usher in the worship of the god of the Israelites. Some of the Olympians, in their gross stupidity, sought to kill a baby.”

Pepper curled a lip.

“Considering some of the darker myths, that really isn’t surprising,” Bruce said.

Thor nodded. “The god of Eli bestowed upon this woman the power to slay gods, and she did so with abandon to protect her offspring. One of her dearest friends, Hercules, slayed his father Zeus in defense of the woman and her child. She herself slew Poseidon, Artemis, Hephaestus, Hades, and, finally Athena. Then she slayed the Furies.”

They all stared at him.

“She was extraordinary in every measure – it was long-rumored she was a demigod, but that was disproved - but her humanity was her greatest power. Her loyalty was not to her gods or her country, but to her child and the people who were dying to protect her. I was humbled by her tenacity and bravery, but most of all by the love she had for the entire world.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Kurt reminded me very much of her. It would not surprise me at all had he been her descendent. His eyes, so compelling and bewitching, were a definite hallmark. That’s why I was dumbstruck when meeting him, for he reminded me of this phenomenal woman.

"Her name was Xena.”


End file.
